"Right, the cake is the decoy," Molly whispered, flicking a miniature plastic dinosaur under a table. "Decoy? For what?" Bill hissed, adjusting his oversized clown nose. "To distract the tiny humans. While they're busy shoving frosting in their face, we grab the loot." "And the loot is…?" "Every single gift. Think of it, Bill! Imagine a pile of unopened joy, ripe for… redistributing." "Sounds like a lot of tiny hands reaching." "That's where you come in. You're the happy distraction. Juggle. Tell bad jokes. Make balloon animals that look vaguely threatening." "My balloon dachshunds are legendary!" "Exactly. Meanwhile, I'll be the silent shadow. The phantom of present peril. I'm thinking a black leotard and maybe some strategically placed glitter." "Glitter? Molly, it's a kiddie party, not a rave." "Details, Bill, details. The point is, we get in, we grab, we get out. Before the parental units realize their precious progeny's joy has been… rehomed." "What if they catch us?" "Then we blame it on the sugar rush and a rogue unicorn." "A rogue unicorn? You're a genius, Molly. A slightly unhinged genius with excellent taste in leotards."